


mad as rabbits

by brendonurie



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, also drug usage, rated teen for sexy implications and language i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2252883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brendonurie/pseuds/brendonurie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>acid + song-writing</p>
            </blockquote>





	mad as rabbits

When we woke up, it was tough to see. We got so high, we got lost coming down.

There was no rhyme or reason, just us, just time, just space. How can you want to forget that?

So we wrote it down. We wrote down all we could remember. It wasn't much. He did most of the writing, anyway.

 

- 

 

I didn't really care for acid. Jon told me I seemed okay, but for days afterwards I didn't feel okay. But now that I think about it, maybe it wasn't so much the acid as it was the kid I did it with.

 

-

 

It only took a few days for us to finish the song. As always, Ryan did a lot of the work. The way he wrote it, it sounded like another one that he'd be singing. And then he handed me the lyric sheet. I blinked up at him.

"Wanna plunk out the melody with me?"

"Sure, okay."

He showed me the melody and I caught on quick, as always. Turned out he did want to sing some parts. I liked that idea. I could get used to that. It was a fun song and dance, us trading verses and lines and melodies. I liked it.

 

-

 

We snuck away while we were high. Probably not the best idea, considering his recklessness and my naivety. But we did it anyway. We snuck upstairs, a forbidden garden to the rest of the party. Spencer says he saw us leave, but let us go. I'll have to remember to thank him.

 

-

 

Recording the song was sort of rough. Ryan wanted me to sing everything in all the ways I couldn't, but no matter how bad it got, he wouldn't let me trade lines or verses, and he wouldn't let me leave the song to him. It only took us a day, but he was on edge the whole time. He'd been like that a lot around then; moody and sulky. We guessed it would pass.

 

-

 

In a stranger's bed, we had sex for the last time. Looking back, it wasn't romantic, it wasn't mind-blowing; I probably wouldn't remember it if we didn't write a fucking song about it. In the moment, I said something about wanting to explore every inch of him. I wanted to find and see and live every scrap of skin, every tiny purple vein, every short black hair. I was a bird and he was the map for me to traverse.

 

-

 

Jon and Spencer's parts were easy, we got those done in the morning. The jazz orchestra came and went, taking their third-party obliviousness with them. We sang and sang and sang throughout the day. We ended up piecing together different takes for every verse, no one take having the viscosity we needed it to. No one take portraying the viscosity of our bodies and our souls intertwining.

 

-

 

We started writing as soon as we finished fucking. He rolled off of me, chest heaving. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. Then he started reaching around for something to write with.

"We should... We should document this."

I think he knew it would be the last time.

I agreed, because I wanted to savor it. I wanted it to keep going, into the night. I thought maybe if we kept writing and fucking and writing and fucking that we'd never have to leave and it would never have to stop. But I was still high then.

I was grasping at straws. I watched time slip through my fingers. I tried to save it, I tried to keep the calendar from falling to the next page.

I failed.

 

-

 

When we came back to the studio and Jon, Spence, and I were groggy and irritable. He, however, was not. He came in flapping his notebook around, looking energized from a night in a hotel with Keltie. He had one more thing for us to record. He and I.

"Keltie... I love that girl... She said something amazing last night -- get this: She said we have to reinvent love. Have you ever heard anything like that? I loved it. She's... She gets it. She gets me. We gotta put that on the record, guys."

Jon and Spencer loved it. I guess that I would have, too, under different circumstances. But I knew what it meant. I knew why he loved it. I knew why he pulled me into the booth and had me belt those words at the top of my lungs with him. He wanted me to know that he was done. Reinventing love looks different for everyone, and for him it meant phasing me out of his heart. I knew that. I heard him loud and clear.

It took just about the whole day to record those parts. My voice kept cracking.

He confessed to us later that it was his favorite song from the new album. When the guys all agreed, I felt like I had to go along with it. Our favorite song was the one about Ryan and I doing acid and fucking. Great.

 

-

 

We got the mainframe of the song hammered out and then he fell asleep. He fell asleep facing away from me, curled up in the corner of the bed.

When I think about it, I guess I must have known it was the last time, too.

I woke with a start around five A.M., heart pounding and head throbbing, worried someone would find us there, naked and alone. I shoved him awake and we gathered our notes, dressed, and snuck back downstairs. Spencer was asleep on the couch, the host was asleep on the floor. Ryan woke Spencer while I shuffled out to his car to wait. I rooted around in Ryan's coat to find a cigarette and found a pack of stale old Parliaments. Ryan emerged while I was fumbling with the lighter.

"You know, Bren, some of these lyrics are kinda dark, but I want it to be a real sunshiney song, yeah? The way I hear it in my head, it sounds like real fancy cursive. This is gonna be a good one, dude."

I smiled and blew smoke at my feet.

"Sure, dude. I can see it."

He shook his head vigorously.

"No, man, I don't want us falling to some shitty crowds that don't put out good music. We're not some dumb kids who stumbled upon fame. We're not a one-hit wonder. This song will make the album, Bren. It'll make it."

"Okay, Ryan. I'm behind you."

I always was. He was always a little self-conscious during the writing process, always freaking out about how even Jon and Spencer, how our friends, how our producer would receive it. Once he got past that, though, he was all confidence. After that, he stood behind his songs and showed them off like it was a damn pageant.

I loved him. I was just another of his bad habits.

**Author's Note:**

> a wonderful little one-shot prompt from my dear friend zena. i quote, "Ryden - Mad As Rabbits was actually about an acid trip (and there was sex)". nice zena. love uuuuu


End file.
